Tell Abbie I Love Her
by Dizzy-Dreamer
Summary: What do I tell her if you don't come back? [HarmMac][CHARACTER DEATH]


**WARNING: this fic contains character death.** Don't read further if you don't want to see me on a killing spree.  
I don't own Harm or Mac, blah blah. Woe. I do, however, own Abbie. Mine. No stealy.  
With thanks - as always - to my wonderful beta, **delgaserasca**.

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**Tell Abbie I Love Her**

_"I didn't mean it, you know," he started. He kissed her hair softly and tightened his embrace. Over her shoulder, he watched their daughter sleeping._

"_I know you didn't."_

"_I meant the bit about marines, women, combat and pain."_

"_So did I," she shot back, smiling. She turned her head and kissed him sweetly, mindful of the bundle cradled in her arms._

"_Baby Girl needs a name," she whispered, breaking the kiss._

"_We never did agree on one," he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, staring directly into her eyes._

"_I like Abbie," she continues, "'joy of the father'."_

"_Abbie," he whispered, touching the infant's arm._

"_Abbie Rabb."_

"_Abbie Rabb," he repeated slowly, testing the name. "I think it's perfect."_

_A series of sirens were heard from the streets below the window; two sets of eyes were drawn towards the darkness outside. The lights of Maryland shone steadily; stretching out for miles, as far as the view from the fifth storey window would allow them to see._

"_Leila," she whispered. He looked at her curiously, stroking his daughter's tiny hand with his finger. "It's Arabic. It means 'born at night' – or that's what Harriet's baby names book says," she clarified, laughing quietly._

"_Abbie Leila Rabb. Happy birthday, Abbie," he breathed softly._

_--- --- --- _

She clenches her fist as the shots fire – _one, two, three _– the folded flag resting on her knees feels like a deadweight, her daughter's soft breaths short and quick, her sleep restless, mind tortured – she knows. She sits stiffly as four tomcats fly overhead; her entire body tenses as one breaks from formation as the pilot pulls on the throttle, thrusting the aircraft sharply upwards. She doesn't relax as the service ends, as people – officers, friends, colleagues – salute, as they file out of the area mutely, talk in small groups – as people rest a hand on her shoulder, whispering regret and condolence, sharing mutual sorrow.

Her breaths are long, measured, even; she carries her sleeping daughter on her hip, the folded flag between them. She clenches her fists twice, determined not to tremble. Cool, calm, collected marine – no one should see different.

--- --- ---

_"I'd be fine, in time, but God – how can you do this to Abbie?" she asked, her voice low and controlled, the pain in her eyes and the broken tone of her voice betraying the tearful reassurance. He looked at her blankly; he didn't have an answer to her question._

"_Look at that little girl over there," she continued, pointing over his shoulder. Their daughter was curled up on the rug surrounded by her toys, where she'd fallen asleep barely half an hour earlier, and had been covered tenderly with her favourite blanket. "That little girl worships you, Harm. You are her hero. What do I tell her if you don't come back?"_

_He swallowed hard, eyes glassy with tears. "Tell her… tell Abbie I love her."_

"_How can you do this to us, Harm? To me, to Abbie – damn it, how can you do this to **yourself**? That carrier is barely outside of a war zone – and you know damn well what the weather is like there right now. And I hope to God I don't have to remind you of your track record with storms and dropping your planes in the drink," her tone became slightly menacing._

_He reached out to take her hand; to his surprise, she didn't pull away. "I have to do this, Mac," he whispered. Mac looked up for a second, sighing in defeat._

"_I know. And I'm sorry I can't be more supportive… I know you, Harm; I know you'll rush, try to get it over as soon as you can and get back here, and I know you won't be concentrating properly because of that; I know what the weather is like in the Gulf right now and I know how you and storms usually conclude with your plane a wreck on the ocean bed and you floating aimlessly, hoping a SAR helo will spot you before you lose consciousness and drown!" Her voice rose as she continued her tirade, ending in a shrill squeak._

"_Sarah…" he breathes, broken. "I'm so sorry," the sentence is choked; it's all she can do to lead him to the sofa before he breaks down. She wraps her arms around him and runs her fingers through his hair, rubs gentle circles across his shoulder blades, holding him tightly to her as he cried._

_They were woken an hour later by their daughter climbing into her father's lap and settling between them, having awoken from her nap and collected her beloved stuffed green elephant from where she'd kicked it in her sleep._

_--- --- --- _

"Daddy loved you, you know that, Abs? You daddy loved you so much," she whispers, strapping the girl into her toddler seat in the car. She kisses the top of her head and places the green elephant in her arms. "He loved us both."

--- --- ---

_"You're really trying to ruin my day," he spoke bitterly, tugging on the throttle to avoid an incoming missile. His RIO fed him coordinates and distances, the Skipper on the carrier gave him further directions – but his mind wouldn't focus. He was being fired at from all directions, flying an unarmed aircraft, and his last thought before the missile hit was of his wife and his daughter and their photograph tucked in the pocket of his flight suit._

_---_

_"Colonel Mackenzie?" She knew something bad had happened when she saw the two officers at her door. She knelt down to her daughter and sent her up to her room to play: at three years old, Abbie Rabb didn't need to hear two Naval officers telling her mother that her father was dead._

_Mac had known something had gone wrong – she woke up filled with anticipation, dread – her concerns were solidified later, she'd swear she felt him die._

_They gave her a letter with his personal effects, an off-white envelope with her name scrawled on the front in his small, scratchy writing. When she looked later, she'd find letters dating back years – right back to when they began working together._

"_Sarah,_

_If you're reading this, something bad must have happened. Before anything else – I want you to know I love you – and for as long as this Earth spins on its axis, I will never stop loving you._

_Every time I go away – even on a routine investigation – hey, do we even have routine investigations? – I write you a letter, just in case something should happen and I don't come back. The letters are in my desk, Sarah. They're in the third drawer in the locked box; the key is taped to the underside._

_I'm sorry I came out here, Sarah. I'm so sorry – first and foremost that I'm so completely pigheaded, especially when it comes to flying and keeping up with my quals. I know – or I hope you know – how much flying means to me; it's all I have left of my father and I guess they're right when they say you never really forget your past, or truly let go of things you hold dear._

_I love you, Sarah. I love you and I love Abbie, and I always will. Be happy, won't you? My girls, be happy._

_Tell Abbie I love her,  
Forever;  
Harm."_

--- --- ---


End file.
